


paved with good intentions

by LilMysterios



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Creampie, Crying, Extremely Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, Father/Son Incest, Hand Jobs, Implied Violence, M/M, Manipulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Shota Dean, Top John, but not between John and Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMysterios/pseuds/LilMysterios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wants Dean and so he goes out every night, trying to get his son out of his head by fucking random girls with freckles and green eyes...<br/>Only Dean and Sammy don't like their father not being home, which leads sweet, innocent little Dean to offer John his help releasing some tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. discussion of terms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, everything is in the tags; don't like, don't read !
> 
> The rating will go up in the next chapter, and I'll add new tags as well.
> 
> This work was beta'd by the fantastic and ever-encouraging harleyquinnnapier. ^^

 

John is _screwed_.

He’s never been one to become a victim of his instincts, but lately everything has become so fucking unbearable he’s afraid he’s gonna snap soon.

The problem is Dean.

Pretty, lovely, adorable little Dean, who’s growing up to have the plump, lush, obscene cock-sucking lips of a twink porn-star, the bright, innocent, wide-open green eyes of a fucking Disney princess (John’s never seen the appeal before but oh, _how he sees it now_ ) and the pert, small, perfectly rounded ass of a underwear ad model.

So yeah, John is fucked.

Especially since Dean, apparently, has a natural talent of turning into maddeningly erotic porn even the most mundane tasks.

Like when he dresses, first shimmying into his way, _way_ too tight jeans, then slowly buttoning his shirt, pink tongue peeking at the corner of his lips, then bending over to tie his shoelaces, firm, apple-round butt in the air for all to see.

Or when he cooks dinner, dancing and twirling around the kitchen on Taylor Swift’s _Shake it off,_ rolling his narrow hips and shaking his ass like it’s his _job_.

Or even when he eats that dinner, wolfing down the food with filthy noises rumbling in his throat as he licks forks and spoons clean of any trace left, leaving his father try to sit comfortably with a guilty boner hard between his legs…

To all that, add Dean’s natural tendency to submissiveness, the way he bends his head when John comes into the room or the way he whispers _yes sir_ in his sweet, sweet voice, and understand how John is going _out of his fucking mind_.

His solution, for now, is to go out as much as he can, using his rugged Winchester charm to pick up girls (usually with pink, pouty lips and bright, green eyes) and fuck them into the mattress of their bed, while his boys sleep soundly in the seedy motel he left them at. And it works out, you know. John can release some of the tension and avoid his now so irresistible boy… everyone is happy.

Until, of course, it all comes crashing down.

“You didn’t come home last night,” Dean says suddenly one morning, his tone unmistakably accusing.

John frowns at his boy and his little hands, settled on his skinny hips like an angry soccer mom.

“You never come home anymore,” Dean continues, brows angry and body tensed, and John can’t help but feel guilty at the sad reproach in his son’s voice.

“I… I’m sorry?” he offers.

“Where were you?” Dean asks, green eyes gleaming with defiance.

John sighs.

“I… went to a bar.”

“You left us to go drink?” Dean says, a betrayed expression crumpling his pretty face.

“Not… exactly.”

Dean frowns, apparently thinking.

“Is it about the big hard thing in your pants you sometimes have when I sit on your lap?”

John swallows, mortified.

“Yes, it, uh… that’s it.”

“Do you go find someone to share it with, like you explained to me?”

God, he’s so _young_ , John is going to hell…

“Yes, I do.”

“So you just abandon us to go and make love,” says Dean harshly, using the same expression his father did to explain the basics of sex, but in a painfully wrong context.

“It’s not—” John starts, frustrated. “What I do with these women, it isn’t love. It’s just… fulfilling a need.”

Dean huffs grumpily, clearly not convinced.

“It’s not any more enjoyable to me than it is to you or your brother, Dean, you must understand that,” John pleads. “It’s a simple physical function, but one I have to take care of.”

Dean bites on the inside of his cheek, seemingly pensive.

“Is it better if it's love, though?”

John nods emphatically.

“Yes, yes it is. It definitely is.”

“And does it have to be a woman?” prompts Dean. “A girl?”

John blinks.

“Well, it is easier…”

“Could it be me?” blurts out Dean.

John blinks again, not sure he heard his son correctly or if his fantasies finally got the better of him and threw him in a reality-like pit of madness and temptation.

“What?”

“Could it be me?” repeats Dean, impatience seeping into his voice. “Could it be me instead of those women?”

“I’m not sure you really understand what you’re saying, Dean…”

“Do you love me?”

John’s eyes widen, a horrified feeling squeezing his chest.

“Of course I love you, Dean, you’re my son. Of course I do.”

“So with me it would be love. You just said it’s better if it’s love.”

John tries to talk, but nothing comes out. _What is happening?_

“Dean, you… you don’t understand.”

“Do they have something special, then? I know I’m prettier,” pouts Dean.

John gulps, his throat suddenly dry at the plush, pink pucker of his son’s pursed lips.

“I’m sure you are,” he admits calmly, “but they have special parts that you don’t have, Dean. A special hole that only ladies have. You remember what I explained about boys and girls? You’re not a girl, are you now, Dean?”

Dean crosses his arms on his chest.

“But I have a hole too, and I know it’s pretty because Coach told me so when he saw me change the other day. Is my hole not good enough?”

John feels a fleeting sense of relief that he’s not the only one to see Dean’s alluringly adorable demeanor, but he chases the thought away.

“Of course it is good enough, you’ll always be good enough, but your hole wasn’t made for taking a man like me,” he explains calmly, trying not to freak out as his discusses his son’s asshole _with his son_. “You would need to be prepared, stretched and lubed up, it would take time and would probably hurt you…”

Dean shrugs.

“I’m not asking for the specifics, dad. I trust you. I’m just asking if it could be me, if you could use _my_ hole and then stay home and have breakfast with Sammy and me. Would it still be good for you? Would your… _need_ be fulfilled?”

He seems hesitant, a bit shy and so, _so_ eager to please… but John is an adult, he’s a father, he can’t be swayed by his son’s pleading, bright eyes, he cannot… which is why John has no idea what possesses him to open his mouth and say:

“Yes, it would. Of course it would.”

Dean smiles then, blinding and beautiful and _what did John just say_.

“Awesome, dad,” says Dean with a delighted laugh. “Then tonight you’re staying home. We’re having lasagna and playing Uno with Sammy after dinner, and after you've fucked me you’ll stay for the night. That way tomorrow morning we’ll all have breakfast together.”

With that, Dean leaves the room, and John’s eyes follow instinctively the curve of his pert ass as his son walks away.

_What the fuck just happened?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, which should be up soon since it's currently being written, we will see how that arrangement goes... hope you liked that first chapter. ^^
> 
> Don't hesitate to tell me if you see any mistake, or if you think a tag or warning should be added.
> 
> Also, comments are life. Seriously. LIFE.


	2. testing the agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John decides to take what was so kindly offered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dedicating this chapter to the fantastic FlaxenGoddess, whose kind words of encouragement really boosted my confidence about my writing.  
> So, here's to you, FlaxenGoddess, because you really helped me at a time I wasn't so sure I should continue to do this.
> 
> This chapter hasn't been beta'd, because all your comments really made me want to post early for you guys… so if you see any mistake, don't hesitate to tell me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

That night, when Sam is asleep in his bed and John is getting ready to lie down for a bit of rest as well, Dean slips in his father’s room, closing the door and approaching the bed, green eyes timid and cast down.

John knows he has to play this right.

“Dean,” he greets softly. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

Dean’s eyes widen, gorgeous and candid, and John can feel his stomach twist in pure _want_.

“But—but I thought,” says Dean. “Aren’t you gonna… you know?”

John sighs, a fond look in his eyes.

“Oh, Dean… it was so very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think this is going to work,” he explains. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“No, no!” Dean protests, and he has to bite his lip to quiet down, mindful of Sammy sleeping just on the other side of the wall. “You can’t… you said yes! You said you could use me… you said you would stay home now!”

He seems on the verge of tears, and it breaks John’s heart so see him so upset.

“Didn’t you like spending the evening with us?” Dean asks then, voice awfully quiet.

John gathers him in his arms, pressing the tiny body into his warmth.

“Of course I liked it, it was the best night I had in a long time… but you don’t know what you want…”

“I do,” pouts Dean, his pretty mouth pursed in a pink, perfect pucker, and John’s cock hardens slightly at seeing his son so stubborn and decided. “I want you to stay home, where you belong.”

John can feel his face soften and he smiles down at Dean.

“Is it really that important to you?” he asks gently.

Dean nods, serious.

“Then okay,” John says. “Okay, Dean.”

Dean simply lights up, his whole face going suddenly bright and inviting, green eyes sparkling with joy.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” John smiles, and he draws circles on Dean’s back with his hands.

“So…” tries Dean after a few seconds of silence. “What should I do?”

John refrains from chuckling, and cups his son’s nape affectionately.

“Well, I suppose we could start with something simple,” he offers. “Just put your hand on my stomach, baby.”

Dean does so, and his little palm spreads on the thin fabric covering John’s abdominal muscles.

“Good, good,” he says. “Now lower it a little bit…”

Dean obeys, hand trailing down his father’s belly.

“Lower — just a bit lower — a tiny bit more…”

Dean finally reaches his groin, his whole body freezing up when his fingers come in contact with John’s denim-clad erection.

“Oh,” he simply says.

John smiles.

“Yeah, oh.”

“It’s very… big,” Dean notes.

“Do you want to see it?” John offers. “Do you want to get it out and see it for yourself?”

Dean blinks, looks up at his father, eyelashes fluttering.

“Yeah,” he says, so sweet is _hurts_ John.

Dean’s hands settle on John’s fly, tiny fingers working to unzip it… John feels the release of tension when his pants open, and he holds his breath as Dean slips a hand in his boxers to tug delicately at his cock… until it suddenly springs free, only half-hard but already red and leaking, bobbing lazily to the left.

Dean’s eyes are huge, green and wide and curious.

“Do you know what to do with it now?” John asks gently.

Dean swallows, eyes focused and intent.

“I—should I rub it?”

John’s a bit surprised.

“Yes, very good, Dean! How did you know?”

Dean blushes.

“I, uh… I noticed sometimes you do it when we take a bath…”

John is suddenly reminded of Dean and Sam, gloriously naked and splashing happily in the soapy water, all wet skin and joyful little giggles as he watches them, pressing a guilty hand to his crotch to hide his arousal… and at the thought that Dean saw what his father was doing at the time, watched without even knowing what he was seeing, John can feel the blood rushing to his erection.

“That’s good, Dean, you’re very observant.”

Dean blushes even more at the praise, and then he bites his bottom lip and just.

Puts his hand on John.

The sensation is weirdly wonderful for something that can’t even qualify as a hand job, too light and too hesitant, but John still grunts and throws his head back.

“Is that—it that good?” Dean asks timidly.

“Yeah, Dean, you’re doing very good,” John says. “Now just go up and down.”

Maybe it’s because it’s Dean, Dean and his chubby fingers warm on John’s cock, Dean and his adorable, eager baby-face, eyes cast down to better see what he’s doing, focused on his clammy little hands going up and down his father’s cock like it’s a math test he studied really hard for, but John doesn’t think he’s ever known so heavenly a touch.

“That’s—,” pants John, eyes closed at the divine sensation, “that’s very good, Dean.”

He can feel himself getting harder and harder, and the best part is, he knows it’s only the beginning.

“That was so good, Dean, you’re such a good boy for your daddy,” he says, and Dean’s ears go red at the compliment. “Now you just take your clothes off, son.”

Dean blushes a bit more but he obeys, letting go of his father’s cock and taking a step back.

He starts by taking off his shirt (his tiny, pink nipples instantly hardening in the cool air of the motel) and then pushes his pants down, revealing his slim, smooth legs… before standing there hesitantly, and John smiles.

“The underwear too, Dean,” he reminds him gently.

Dean blinks and bends over, sliding his tiny boxers down his naked legs before kicking them away with a distracted foot as he straightens up again.

John’s mouth waters at the sight. Dean is hairless _everywhere_ , his small penis nestled softly between his pale thighs, the very image of innocence and youth…

“Very good, Dean… daddy is very happy with you,” says John. “Now I’m gonna need you to get on the bed.”

Dean nods – _God_ he’s so obedient, so eager to please, John’s never seen anything hotter in his _life_ – and climbs gingerly on the bed, exposing his firm, tight little ass when he settles back on the pillows, letting his thighs fall open so naturally John wants to scream.

Dean has absolutely no _idea_ what he looks like, does he?

“Good, good, that’s good,” mutters John.

He takes off his own shirt, gets rid of his pants and underwear, and as he joins his son on the bed he can feel Dean’s eyes follow every bob of his hard cock… he kneels between Dean’s spread legs, lightly stroking up the boy’s hairless calves and to the silky smoothness of his inner thighs, making him shiver at the warm touch.

“Ok now Dean,” he says calmly, “I need you to lie back and trust me, can you do that for me?”

Dean nods and leans back against the pillows, his fair, luminous skin offering a gorgeous contrast against the dull material of the motel sheets, and John licks his lips at the display.

“Good, beautiful,” he says absently, and Dean’s cheeks go a little pink. “Now can you hold your legs up, wide and open for me?”

Dean reaches down, slipping his skinny arms under his knees before he holds them up to his chest and…

 _There it is_.

The Holy Grail of this entire operation is finally, _finally_ revealed, and John can feel his mouth watering before that long-awaited sight…

His son’s hole is _gorgeous_. Pale pink and fluttering shyly under John’s scrutiny, the tight pucker seeming to be sending coy kisses as it opens and closes in the cool air, almost irresistibly cute as it winks timidly.

John doesn’t even have time to think it through before he’s got a finger gently pressed to the small entrance, eliciting a surprised moan from Dean as he delicately rubs the tender, virgin rim.

“Damn, son,” he murmurs, almost reverently. “You have the most gorgeous little cunt I have ever seen.”

Dean lets out an almost-sob at that, as if the filthy compliment is too much for him to handle, and John smirks, pressing slightly harder at the tight hole.

“Do you like your daddy admiring your pussy, Dean?” he asks, feigning innocence. “Do you like spreading your legs and showing off your perfect, fresh little cunt, all ready to be fucked?”

He grabs the small bottle of lube he’s got stacked in the nightstand drawer and drizzles a generous amount of the shiny gel directly on Dean’s hole, making the boy shiver.

“I know, baby, it’s cold,” he soothes. “But daddy’s gonna make it all better.”

He rubs the lube between two of his fingers and when he feels it’s warm enough, he just… sinks one inside of Dean.

The boy whimpers at the strange sensation, clearly not used to having anything go up in that sweet little ass of his, but John pays him no mind and slowly works his finger in and out, in and out.

When he adds another finger and starts scissoring them inside his son, slowly stretching the muscles, he looks up between Dean’s legs.

“Is that okay?” he enquires. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Dean shakes his head.

“No, it’s… it’s a bit weird though,” he says, and his little hips roll under John’s hand, trying to find a better position.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” John reassures.

After all, he intends to use Dean as much as he can, for as long as he can… soon the boy will feel weird when he _doesn’t_ have a cock in his ass.

John shoves a pillow under Dean’s lower back for better access, adding more lube and a third finger. When he feels like the give of Dean’s ass is enough, he retrieves his fingers (drawing a small hiss from his son) and curls his hand around his own cock, smearing the remaining lube onto the hard shaft.

Dean peeks from between his legs, eyes growing wider as his father’s cock gets visibly larger.

“Is it—are you sure it’s gonna fit?” he worries. “It’s so _big_ …”

“Don’t worry, son,” John says, still fisting his erection. “Everything will be alright, you’re doing fine.”

John then aligns himself with Dean’s entrance, taking a second to admire the beautiful contrast of his red, leaking cock next to the tiny, fluttering hole of his son, before he pushes inside.

Dean starts whining immediately at the pressure, little gasps of pain every time John gives a short jab of the hips to try and breach the tight ring of muscle…

“Just relax, Dean,” he soothes. “Just breathe and relax, son, let me in…”

It takes a couple more tries but then suddenly John is _in_ , the silky-warm tightness almost choking him, and Dean moans so prettily John feels a bit dizzy.

 _God_. They haven’t even gotten to the good part yet and John already knows it’s over; his son is too tight, too hot, too perfect for him to even consider bothering to fuck anyone else, ever again.

He starts pushing, watching his fat cock stretching Dean’s hole, and he’s only halfway in when Dean starts squirming and whimpering.

“Dad, stop,” he moans,“I don’t think—please stop, I don’t want to anymore…”

John stills inside Dean, and he can feel the soft inner walls pulsing all around the sensitive flesh of his cock.

“Dean, you can’t stop now… what is Sammy gonna say?” John says, faking disappointment. “He’s gonna be so sad you let him down…”

Dean sobs, his sweet little face twisted in pain.

“But I—it hurts, Dad, it feels so full...”

“I know it hurts, baby boy, I know… but think about Sammy, son, you’re doing so good… you’re doing so good, Dean.”

Dean sniffs.

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby boy… you’re doing perfect, you’re so good to me, I don’t think I’ll ever want someone else to help me… I’ll always be with you and Sammy now.”

Dean blinks and smiles, sweet and reassured.

“Okay,” he says, jutting his chin bravely.

John starts again, advancing in a slow, relentless slide that has Dean closing his eyes, before he finally bottoms out.

“God, Dean, look at that…” he marvels quietly, “your body welcoming me inside like it recognizes me, opening up for my cock like it’s dying to be fucked…”

He pulls out slowly and thrusts back in, letting out an amazed little laugh when he can physically feel the hot, wet walls of Dean’s insides part to let him in, _surrendering_ to him.

“Damn, son… you’re just so tight, the perfect little hole for my cock… am I right? Aren’t you the perfect fuckhole for your daddy’s cock?”

Dean only moans louder, breaths short and high-pitched as John picks up the pace, fucking into his boy with relish, watching as his cock disappears in and out of the hungry, slick hole.

John doesn’t really look at Dean’s face, all focused that he is on burying himself into his greedy little cunt, but he can’t help be proud of his son for taking his cock so well; never would he have thought that his Dean would have it in him to be such a good little whore, writhing and squirming so prettily under him…

It’s only when John starts going faster, ramming his son’s hole like it’s going out of fashion, the smacking sound of flesh on flesh absolutely filthy, that Dean starts to protest, choking at the violent thrusts that push him up on the bed, bright green eyes shiny with tears.

“I—I, Dad, please, I—it hurts, it’s too _fast_!”

John ignores him, hypnotized by the way his cock plunges in and out of the tiny hole, by the graceful arch of Dean’s small body above the sheets, by the way the head of his dick is outlined through the skin of Dean’s baby stomach…

“Dad, please,” Dean cries out. “Please, it really hurts now, I don’t—it’s too much!”

Dean’s grip on his own knees weakens and he’s about to let them go, but John will have none of that attitude.

“Oh stop whining,” he snarls, putting his large hands on Dean’s thighs and pushing them to his chest to keep him open, practically folding him in two until his knees almost touch his ears, “you’re a big boy now… remember why you do this? Remember how sad Sammy would be if I just left tonight? You don’t want that, do you?”

Dean starts crying in earnest, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

“I can just as easily go find some girl to fuck, but I’m here with you, because you begged me to do this... so stop crying and just _take it,_ you little slut.”

He resumes his frantic thrusting, pounding Dean’s ass as he chases wildly his orgasm, his pelvis working furiously to increase the friction… until suddenly it’s _there,_ intense and devastating, and with a tremor of sweet ecstasy John’s emptying his seed all the way inside his son, hot, wet spurts splashing against the silky inner walls.

John sighs, blissfully, completely spent, and finally pulls out, his half-hard cock slipping out of Dean’s ass with a wet, obscene sound; Dean moans, but John only has eyes for the boy’s puffy hole, its rim red and raw as it gapes open, twitching feebly under John’s gaze…

He looks up to take in Dean’s debauched appearance, his mussed hair and the red blush of his neck and little chest, the faint streaks of tears on his freckled cheeks… he’s so breathtakingly beautiful in that moment, looking so exquisitely ravished, that John wants to gather him in his arms and never let go.

He gently manhandles Dean to rest against him, tucking him against his side and letting his hands roam freely all over the small, exhausted body.

“You’ve been so good, Dean,” he says. “You’ve been so perfect for your daddy.”

Dean squirms, clearly still in pain but responding at the praise like he always does.

“You were so clever for having that idea, Dean,” marvels John, his large hands rubbing soothing circles on his son’s back, “such a perfect boy…”

Dean whimpers, and John smiles at how desperate his son is for his dad’s approval.

“You really convinced me, you know,” John says in a sultry tone, carefully easing a hand between Dean’s ass cheeks, where his come is slowly oozing out. The deep satisfaction that rushes over him at knowing his fresh, hot come is swimming inside his son is so overwhelming he almost comes again. “I don’t see any reason to leave you and your brother alone if I can have everything I need right here…”

“Really?” Dean croaks, voice soft and wrecked, and his little hips push sleepily against his father’s fingers.

John kisses the top of his head.

“Yeah, really,” he says tenderly. “You’ve been so good, Dean… so, so good for your daddy…”

And as they slowly fall asleep, John’s hand still possessively curled between his son’s ass cheeks, he can only quietly wonder what else Dean is ready to do to keep his family together...

(Probably a lot, if tonight is any indication.)

*

The next morning, Sammy’s so happy to see his dad home for breakfast he can’t stop bouncing around, puffing white little clouds of powdered sugar everywhere as he eats his toasted waffle.

He doesn’t notice Dean’s wince when the other boy sits down, nor his squirm when he tries to find a comfortable position, but Dean doesn’t say anything.

John is smiling into his coffee, already picturing the next time he’ll get to spread those lovely thighs, slip into that tight, wet hole… when suddenly Dean looks up at him, all sleep-mussed and warm, and for a second all John can see is the fucked-out expression he was wearing yesterday, the blissful, sleepy little sighs as his father’s come slowly leaked down his thighs…

 _Jesus_ , John thinks gleefully, _what a perfect son I have._

*

*

*

*

*

(the pervy Coach is a problem he’ll deal with later… let’s just say when he’s done the man won’t have anything to traumatize little boys with anymore.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, and if you did, remember: kudos are love!


End file.
